


A night of comfort

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality, Comfort, Emotional, Emotionally Repressed, Gen, Platonic Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 04:43:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I filled this prompt from the Les Misérables Kink Meme: "During his time at Montreuil-sur-Mer, Javert pays the prostitutes of the wharf - and this is where Fantine may enter if that's the angle you'd prefer :) - to sleep in his bed with him. That's it. He doesn't want to have sex with them - I very much doubt the thought would ever cross his mind - he just wants to have someone, anyone, to lie next to him. </p><p>I'm basically craving a more vulnerable side of Javert, where he's a little bit pathetic, touch-starved and basically just craving human contact."</p><p>And I don't feel I have much more to add.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A night of comfort

Javert usually watched the prostitutes with a scornful eye. How could anyone, man or woman, sink that low? To sell man’s most precious belonging of all, which should be he, himself or her, herself, like a mere piece of meat in a butcher’s shop? Their dignity, of course, must have been gone a long time ago for that to happen, to offer one’s body for rent to anyone with money enough to cover for some food. And the men, those whoremongers, those vile creatures driven by lust, and only lust who bought the prostitutes? Even worse, they deserved just as much scorn, no, more, even.

At least the prostitutes needed food and clothes. What would be the whoremonger’s excuse for such filth? Carnal desires. Uncontrollable carnal desires. Vile, filthy.  
Javert himself couldn’t quite understand those uncontrollable carnal desires himself. He never fell in lust. There were occasional nights, some lonely nights, when he felt those urges, those urges of the flesh, and then he could take care of himself, so to speak, but he never lusted after other people.  
This night was different. Not that he craved or lusted after anything or anyone, but he craved… something. There were lonely nights. There were lonely days. He never had anyone whom he could call a friend, nobody to rely upon. Apart from himself. And even though he liked it that way, and even more, he preferred it that way, tonight he felt… lonely. Weak. And, to put it bluntly, rather pathetic. A man such as himself. A man such as himself shouldn’t crave contact, comfort, company like a touch-starved little puppy whimpering and barking pathetically to its master. Javert was no puppy. If anything, he was a wolf. But this night he felt nothing like one.  
So there he stood, watching the prostitutes from afar. Women, some of them awfully painted, like actresses from some sort of grotesque comedy farce, all with ragged and revealing dresses, they must be cold, he thought, the wind was foul tonight. He shook his head. What was he up to? He didn’t even know for sure himself. Could he… One of them suddenly looked right at him. He had been spotted. She gave him a smile and a wink. He frowned and shook his head, he was just about to turn on his heels when he saw that she was approaching.

“Hello, darling”, she said, her voice was husky and rough. “What could you, dear officer, possibly desire from a woman like me?” Her voice was teasing and her mouth was distorted in some kind of smirk. “Oh, don’t you worry, good Monsieur. I’ve had many clients of your sort. I won’t tell your colleagues.” And at that she started stroking his chest and pressing herself to him. She was around thirty, probably, but looked significantly older. When she smiled, Javert saw that she missed a few teeth. Life had been hard on her.  
“No”, Javert replied. His voice vas stern, his expression serious. “You have completely misunderstood.”  
“Misunderstood, darling? I saw you watching me and the other dames, and it looked as if you were about to approach. No, I think…” She ran her finger across his chest as she spoke. “…that I know exactly what you want… Monsieur.”  
“You are correct in one thing, and that’s that I was about to approach. The rest, though, was definitely a misunderstanding. What I’m looking for might be rather…”  
“Yes, darling?”  
“Unorthodox.”

At his reply the prostitute started to laugh. She laughed for almost a minute, or so it felt, and Javert was quickly losing both his interest and his patience with this wretched woman.  
“Unorthodox, you say? Darling, I’m a prostitute. A whore. I don’t give a tiny little toss about if your tastes is considered ‘unorthodox’, you have to know. I’ve been spanked, spat on, pissed on, I’ve had men begging me to spank them and piss on them, I’ve taken pricks in every single orifice in my body save for my ears and nostrils. I think I can handle a little unorthodox…ity.”  
Javert spat, his temper long gone, but now he also felt even more weak and pathetic than before, vulnerable even.  
“Listen, Mademoiselle.”  
“Oh, Mademoiselle, that’s a new one.”  
“I don’t have time for this. Listen to me. What I want is unorthodox in the sense that I want you to come home with me… No, don’t interrupt me! I want you to lay beside me in my bed and touch me. Perhaps even wrap your arms around me at some point. Fully clothed. And you could also stay the night, sleeping beside me.” Javert’s voice was stern, but his face had become flustered with embarrassment as he spoke. Good thing it was night. He wouldn’t want her to see him actually blushing.  
“Oh, you are such a little darling”, the woman replied when Javert was finished talking. “Do you want mommy to tuck you in?”  
“It is not like that, and if you don’t stop with your petty insults you can go back and wait for someone who is willing to pay you to do much more vile things to you than this.”  
“No, Monsieur, I just found it rather endearing. I am more than willing to… I mean, you pay and your wish is my command.”

As they walked to Javert’s home he couldn’t help but looking at the prostitute. Not an appreciating gaze, mind you, he wasn’t admiring her aesthetically, but there was something about her that he liked. She was reasonably well spoken. Probably not a dumb person, wretched, without a doubt, but not unintelligent. Her eyes were warm and almost motherly, could she possibly be a mother, selling her body to take care of her children, or were there other reasons for her to have come to this last solution for a poor woman? He also guessed that, if she smiled genuinely, her smile would be warm and welcoming.

Inside the house her manners changed from playfully teasing and flirting to warm, kind and gentle. He was more than pleased that she stopped mocking him, he already felt foolish enough by his own accords. He led her to his bedroom and both of them sat down on the bed.  
“Lean against me”, she said, her voice soft and gentle. “I will take care of you.”  
“Take care of me?”  
“I didn’t mean it in a sexual way. Just… take care of you, darling.” He hesitantly leaned against her and she began to stroke his hair, almost petting him as if he actually was that touch-starved little puppy he didn’t want to be, but pathetically enough felt like. And it felt good. It felt gentle, it pleased him, it made him calm down quite a bit. Soon she was running her fingers through his hair.

“You have beautiful hair, Monsieur. It’s very rich… Do you want to lay down?” Javert just nodded slightly as a retort.  
He laid himself on his back, and she laid herself beside him, on her side, stroking his chest gently. He tensed up a bit, but she talked in the same soft, calm voice, reassuring him that she wouldn’t do anything that he would consider lewd in any way, and by that he immediately calmed down again. One hand stroke his chest, the other stroke his hair again, moving down to his cheek, giving it a gentle touch with her fingers and palm, but soon turning her hand, stroking his cheek with the other side of her fingers. Javert’s breathing got calmer and calmer and soon he felt relaxed enough to even close his eyes as she petted his cheek. He even let her give his cheek a small, soft, chaste kiss.  
“Turn to the side, Monsieur, your back against me.” He obeyed. She seated herself, also on her side, right behind him, he could feel her small breasts pressing softly against his back. She stroke his arm with the flat of her hand, moving up to caress his cheek and his hair for a little more before putting her arm underneath his to stroke and pet his chest and stomach. He let out a small, relaxed and almost delighted sigh. He felt good. Vulnerable still, but he didn’t even mind it at this point, he just let everything happen and he enjoyed it.

After a while the stroking stopped and she gave his neck a small kiss.  
“You’re breathing very, very slowly now. Are you about to fall asleep, per chance?”  
“Yes…” He nodded slightly, his eyes still closed. “…I think I might be.”  
“I will stay with you until you fall asleep. Don’t you worry. Perhaps I will get some sleep too, Monsieur.” Her voice was barely a whisper at this point. “Lay yourself on your stomach.”  
He did. She laid herself beside him, her arm resting softly against his back, her hand stroking it softly now and then. Javert fell asleep only minutes later, a deep, satisfying sleep. For the moment, he was happy. For the moment he was just perfectly content.


End file.
